Until it's gone
by thoughtsunleashed123
Summary: After Clarke is left seriously injured because of a grounder attack, Bellamy must find a way to save her life. But with no real medical experience, and being stranded miles away from the camp, will he be able to save her? Whilst battling to save Clarke's life, he must also battle his growing feelings for her. But what will the outcome of both of these battles be? *Bellarke*
1. Guilty all the same

Bellamy

I remember that it hurt, looking at her hurt.

Looking at the brave and strong girl, lying on the ground, fighting through the pain that was evident in her eyes. Even in pain, her strength would be enough for all of the hundred. For the first time ever, weakness is evident in the eyes of the Princess.

I am stood here over her limp body, with no idea of how to help her. I do not have any medical experience. I have only ever watched Clarke's steady hands and her calm and collective demeanour, as she expertly treated to the wounded. She has saved so many lives, heck she has saved my life before, but I don't even know if I am able to do the same thing for her. And we are alone. Completely and utterly alone, in an unknown part of this new world we have discovered, miles away our camp. Our new home,

All I can think about is the small dagger that is protruding from her ribs. Blood is pouring from the wound, soaking her shirt to be a dark crimson colour. Her entire body is shaking: every tremor sending a shock through body. She lets out small gasps in-between breaths, which are unsteady as it is. Her eyes plead with me to help her, though her mouth isn't able to create the words.

The amount of anger and guilt that is building up inside of me is overwhelming. I should have protected her. I should have stopped them. Out of all the deaths that I feel guilty over, hers will be the one that destroys me. Clarke has bought out of side of me which I never knew was there. She believes in me and she aspires me to be a better person. Clarke made me believe in myself, she told me that I was needed. She needs me…

With that thought I am suddenly snapped back into the reality of the situation, as I fall to me knees next to her head. She looks up at me with so much wonder in her eyes as she says: "Bellamy." Nervous and unsure what to do next, I simply just push aside a piece of hair from her face and murmur gently: "Hey Princess."

She smiles, her face looking so calm, considering she may bleed to death in this very spot. "Bellamy," she gasps, "I need you to pull this dagger out of me." Her question shocks me, although I didn't really know what I expected her to ask.

"But…" I retort as I calmly as possible, "I have no idea what I'm doing… I could kill you."

"No Bellamy I know you won't, I will guide you right through this." she says.

Her eyes search mine, but I don't know what to say.

Until she says it.

"Bellamy, I need you."

Those four words are enough to pull me back into focus. Snap out of it Bellamy, I think to myself. This is not the time to be a coward. I think back to the attack, and I think of how the one small decision has impacted our lives so much. One small decision that could still cost Clarke her life.

_*Flashback*_

_Clarke and I had gone on one of many routine patrols, but this time we had gone much further out into the forest. Some of the others had said that they thought they saw grounders outside of their borders. So to calm the nerves and wondering minds of the remaining hundred, Clarke and I naturally agreed to go and check it out._

_We had both been on many together patrols through the forest in recent weeks: scouring for new discoveries, ensuring that we were not under threat from a grounder attack. And strangely enough, we had both become more comfortable around each other. Although I definitely wouldn't call us friends, I felt as though we weren't exactly acquaintances either. But we both share the same goal: to protect and make sure that we keep the 100 alive._

_It's like we each were to very different sides to a coin, yet we both shared this piece of copper. Clarke- being the one who represents goodness, with her kind heart and empathy in her belief that every single life matters. And then there's me- the darker side to the duo, the one who is able to make the tough decisions when needed however cruel and evil they may seem at the time. But the decisions that are a necessity to our survival in this strange new world._

_Though we are two very different people, the things that make us different are the things that we both need from each other. She is the other piece in the puzzle that allows me to stand up and be a strong leader for the 100. _

_Whilst we were walking, I discovered that we had stepped over the usual perimeter of where we would usually patrol. However I didn't say anything to Clarke about it, until I was certain that we were lost._

"_Clarke," I said, "We've gone too far, we need to turn back."_

_As she looked around us, I could see and expression similar to my own, creep onto her face. Uncertainty, bewilderment. Because neither one of us could recognize our surroundings._

"_Okay, but which way do we take to get back to the camp?" she demanded._

_I looked around me to try and asses which was the best way to take, but I could not decipher which way we should take to go back to camp. And by the look on her face, neither could Clarke._

_That's when it happened._

_All of a sudden we were surrounded by grounders. A whole load of them stood around us in a circle, leaving no way for us to escape. When I looked at them, they looked much different to other grounders we had encountered before. They had a much more savage appearance to them: their skin plastered with different shades and patterns of war paint, and dishevelled scraps of animal skin a cloth wrapped around their bodies. They wore a differently structured armour then from what I can recall from the others._

_I thought to myself, they maybe they were a different tribe? The Grounder princess, Anya, had said that there were others. This must be who they are. And we must have stepped into their territory, the pissed looks on their faces somewhat confirming this assumption._

_Clarke slowly walked backwards, stopping abruptly as her back collided with mine. I turned to look at her, and I saw that there was fear evident in her eyes. Yet underneath that fear I could something else: a spark of bravery and determination._

_I looked around to asses our situation, to try and think of our options. We couldn't fight off a group of around six grounders, as only two of us. But we couldn't cower and not fight back, otherwise they would almost definitely kill us. We had to fight our way out_

_As though she had just read my mind, Clarke inclined her head towards mine in a nod. I gritted by teeth, and drew my weapons and launched myself at the grounders. And Clarke did the same._

_It was all just a blur of colliding weapons: as I slashed my dagger at the grounders in one hand, and brandished my knife in the other. Clarke- who I could only just see in my peripheral vision, did the same- a grit of determination as she fought off the grounders. I used everything within me to hold them off- whether it be slashing them with the knife, our using my bare fists to fight them._

_One of the larger grounders knocked the dagger out of my hand, sending me flying backwards towards the ground. I collided with the ground painfully, but grateful that I had landed on a soft patch of ground. Then I saw him- the grounder who knocked my over- picking up my dagger as he made his way towards Clarke._

_She had her back turned to him at the time, as she bravely slammed her knife into the chest of one the grounders. The large grounder seized Clarke by the throat as I scrambled to my feet, and ran towards her. _

_But I was too late._

_The grounder slammed my dagger into Clarke's ribs, a look of pure malice and satisfaction as he watched her petite body crumple to the ground._

"_No!" I screamed, my voice echoing through the silent forest._

_The grounder looked at me running towards him, then at the bodies of his five fallen comrades. Defeated, the large grounder ran back into the growing darkness of the forest._

_*Flashback*_

If only I had gotten to my feet sooner, if only I had stopped that grounder before it was too late. If only.


	2. All comes down to

**Hi guys. Thanks so much to everyone who have reviewed/ followed/ favourite. It means so much. So here is Chapter 2- I'm sorry if all the medical terms and such aren't very precise, but I'm not a Doctor. Enjoy!**

Clarke

Pain. The pain that is radiating from my ribs is excruciating. It spreads through my whole body like wildfire- and uncontrollable blaze which is slowly destroying me. A blaze which was ignited by our ongoing war with the grounders. A war of which I would do anything to stop. But I can't.

Everything that happened was such a blur- I can't make out exactly what happened. The pain is taking over my mind- clouding up everything that has just happened.

I'd never really thought about what it would be like for the patients I had treated, I'd never really known the amount of pain they were going through. Of course the pain was evident in their eyes as they would look up at me expectantly, as if I was some kind of miracle worker who would save their lives. Like Finn and the countless others I've treated since we arrived on the ground.

But I don't believe there is such a thing as a miracle, when it comes to saving people's lives. Of course I would like to believe it- but in my experience miracles have never proven effective. Instead I just trust in my knowledge of science- after the countless years of watching my mother treat to the wounded on the Ark. But I always had hope. Hope that the small graveyard outside of the wall wouldn't start to get bigger.

I feel as though I'm slowly slipping out of consciousness- and it's becoming increasingly difficult for me to breathe. It must be because of the stab wound, which means there might be internal bleeding.

I vividly register Bellamy dropping to his knees beside me. Bellamy. It's all coming back to me now- Bellamy and I were on patrol… we were attacked by grounders. Well at least I was anyway- from what I can see, Bellamy seems to be unharmed, expect a few cuts and bruises.

"Bellamy." I gasp with a smile. I never thought I would have been so happy to see Bellamy Blake in my life. Which leads me to think- why am I so happy to see Bellamy Blake?

"Hey Princess," he says, as he leans down to push a stray piece of hair away from my face. I flinch at the touch of his hand brushing against my skin. Not because I don't like it- I would have been repulsed by his touch in the past. But simply because I feel like it sent electricity through my body. Not the painful kind- the kind that gets my heart racing for all the good reasons. Why the hell do I feel like that towards Bellamy?

I stop thinking about it as soon as I see the expression on his face- it seems to be filled with a mixture of pain, anger and guilt. He must think that the grounder attack is his fault. Of course he would. I know that Bellamy blames himself for a lot of the things that have happened since we arrived on earth. And I also know that underneath that impenetrable protective barrier he puts up, he punishes himself because of these things.

The pain in my ribcage brings me back to the reality of the situation. I need to get this dagger out of me. And the fact that we are miles away from our camp, in an unknown area, doesn't help.

"Bellamy," I gasp calmly. "I need you to pull this dagger out of me."

He looks at me, shock written all over his face, as though I just asked him to give me one of his kidneys. Although this is much more serious.

"But, I have no idea what I am doing! I could kill you!" he replies solemnly.

I realise that I need to do everything I can to reassure him that he can, for both my sake and his.

"No, I know you won't," I say, "I will guide right you through this."

He looks at me, his expression grave and full of fear. I then realise what I need to say to reassure him- those words I used to get him to stop from running away before, and face his fears.

I take a deep breath before I say: "Bellamy, I need you."

His face suddenly lights up at those words, as though it's pulling darkness.

Bellamy clears his throat.

"What do I need to do?" he asks.

Bellamy

"What do I need to do?" I ask Clarke, putting on as much of brave face as I can muster up.

She tries to take a deep breath, but her shallow breaths making her unable to do so.

"You need to slowly pull the blade out," she commands, "Exactly diagonal to where it has gone in, otherwise it may cause internal bleeding." God, even when she's the injured one, she's busy barking out commands at people.

I try and compose myself, taking deep breaths to try and calm myself down. I have never been this nervous about anything since Octavia was taken away, and my mother was floated. Both then and now I feel and overwhelming feeling of dread.

Anything else, and I would have breezed through it: hunting, protecting my people. But when it comes to trying to preserve or save people's lives, I haven't had the best experience.

Clarke looks as though she is using everything within her just to remain conscious- her pale eyelids fluttering open and shut continually. She's doing that for me- so she can help me. Even whilst in excruciating pain, Clarke's kindness towards others is overwhelming. That's something I've always admired about her…

"Stop," I mutter to myself under my breath. I can't be dwelling on how kind Clarke is when she's lying here dying. More importantly, why am I thinking of her like that? I never really have before and although I admire her leadership skills, Clarke has never been my favourite person. But I need her- I can't lead the remaining hundred without her.

"Okay," I say steadily, "Are you ready?"

She nods. I slowly place one hand on her side, so I can keep steady, and the other on the handle of the dagger. I take a deep breath, and slowly start pulling the dagger out of her.

At first she screams, but then she lowers her voice down to a quiet groan. But that's not what I'm paying attention at: I'm fully concentrating on the task at hand, making sure that I keep the blade straight.

With one final grunt o effort, the blade is out, and I let it fall to the ground next to me.

I look up to Clarke's face- I can see she's trying her best to hide the pain that is clearly there. Brave Princess.

"You did it." she beams up at me.

"I did it…"

"Thank you," she says smiling.

For a moment we are both silent, as we look into each other's eyes intently.

"What next?" I ask clearing my throat and averting my eyes from her.

"You need to…" she begins.

That's when it happens.

**Just to let you guys know, that Clarke isn't out of the woods yet. But let's hope for her recovery to be smooth sailing…**


	3. In these arms

Bellamy

All of a sudden Clarke's body begins to spasm up and down violently. Clarke lifts her hand a presses it to her chest, obviously having difficulty breathing. Her face has turned to a deathly pale colour, as white as a blanket of snow. Which I had thought to be impossible, given how her natural skin tone was already rather pale as it is. I have no idea how I am supposed to help her: I thought that after pulling the knife out of her, the worst of it would be over. Obviously I was wrong.

In this moment I realise how little medical experience, all of us except Clarke have had. She is our only Doctor- the only one who has the expertise and the knowledge to deal with these kind of situations. There are only a few of the remaining hundred who have a basic knowledge- Raven being one of them. When we get back to camp, Clarke and I will have to arrange to train some of the more capable kids up…

That's only if we get back to camp. If I don't help Clarke right now, she may never return to the place we know call home. Not only would I lose my co-leader, the hundred would lose their Doctor and many would lose their friend. I would lose My Princess.

My Princess? I think to myself. Since when had I thought of Clarke to be "My Princess"? She is my co-leader that is all. Nothing more and nothing less. All I know that through this haze of jumbled up thoughts in my mind, I know that I need her. We all need her. That means we cannot lose her.

Determined to insure that would never happen, I do the only thing I can think of that might help her in this situation. I hold her.

I pull her thrashing body to my lap. I wrap both of my arms around her chest, in an attempt to stop the shaking.

"Clarke, what can I do to help you?" I ask her, my voice in a frenzy.

She shakes her head, before she says mutter with difficulty: "You are helping… just keep your arms… tight around me… might stop… from shaking."

I nod and do as she asks. For a while I just sit here- my arms wrapped around Clarke's constantly shaking body. I can't help shake off this odd feeling- that it feels right for Clarke to be here in my arms. It's a strange feeling, one that I have never felt about anyone before. But I know deep inside that it's a feeling I must dismiss- I must concentrate on the situation at hand.

The tremors that have been going through her body begin to slow down, and then they eventually stop. I slowly realise my arms from around Clarke, and turn her body to face mine.

She looks exhausted- the exhaustion casting deep shadows under her usually vibrant blue eyes. Never I had I seen the Princess look more… vulnerable before. Clarke has always been strong in the face of grave situations. She has always put up a brave front. And it is something she has never faltered in doing. Her can-do attitude, and inability to take orders from others was always something I had found quite annoying about her. A few weeks ago I may have labelled Clarke Griffin as the bane of my existence- but now I wasn't so sure I could call her that.

But underneath I can see the truth: she is just a young girl who has lost just as much as we all have. I now regret all of the times I had used the nickname "Princess" against her, as if it were a weapon. Many of us here on the ground resented her, due to the fact that she was of a higher class to everyone else. That she was the "privileged" one, which was where part of this resentment stemmed from- hatred towards The Council. I've heard some of the things many have whispered about her: things like "She thinks she's better than us" and "We can't she just get down off her high horse!" But I realise now that being that person, was something she had no choice but to do. To be a leader. Even if it meant others hating her for it. She did it for us.

Many of the hundred have lost a parent, sometimes even both. I have lost my mother. But Clarke, she has lost the people that she loved in a way that nobody else has. Her father was floated right in front of her eyes: as a result of her mother's betrayal. I couldn't ever imagine betraying my mother or sister like that- and I'm sure Clarke finds it hard to understand how her own mother could do such a thing. That betrayal would make it hurt ten times worse. She lost her best friend- Wells, the boy she grew up with- because of Charlotte's quest to "slay her demons." Which evidently, was my fault. Also spacewalkers betrayal must have just added to the pain that she already feels.

And now she is all alone- down here, leading a bunch of criminals to survive in this brave new world. I now more than ever appreciate the fact that I have my sister, Octavia, with me here.

"Clarke," I ask, my eyes searching hers for answer. "Are you feeling better?"

She sheepishly smiles at me: "Much."

Octavia

Bellamy and Clarke still haven't returned from their Grounder patrol. It was nearly getting dark by now, and they both knew that they had to be back by nightfall. Heck, they were the ones that created that rule.

I know that I shouldn't be worried- my brother is perfectly capable of taking care of himself, as is Clarke. There will be some logical explanation behind it, there must be. Maybe they stopped to take shelter from something, or just simply to take a break…

"Octavia, are you alright?"

I turn to see Jasper standing behind me, his eyes questioning and expectant.

"Umm yeah," I reply, "I was just thinking about how…"  
"About how Bellamy and Clarke aren't back yet?" he interrupts.

I sigh with relief, glad that I'm not the only one who is worried about the two of them, and that I am not over-reacting.

"Yes." I say. "Do you think we should be worried?"

"It's Bellamy and Clarke, they of all people are capable of taking care of themselves, but…" he cuts off, his eyes suspiciously trailing to the ground, as though he was trying to hide some emotion.

"But what Jasper?" I demand

He returns his gaze to my face, an anxious look written all over it. "But, I think with all of these suspicious Grounder sightings, that we shouldn't just ignore it."

Before I get a chance to reply, a petite Brunette head comes bouncing towards us.

"What are you guys talking about? Why so serious?" she asks, her eyes shooting from my face to Jaspers expectantly.

Reluctantly, Jasper and I fill the girl in on our suspicions about Bellamy and Clarke. Over the past few weeks I had grown to like Raven more. She was feisty and strong- putting up a fight at anything or anyone that came her way. But she also had the ability to be a cool-headed and wise during situations- calm and calculating. A quality that was needed in our camp.

When we finish explaining everything to her, she looks up at us both, a deep frown evident in on her face.

"Although I agree we should we worried, we can't go looking for them whilst it's dark." Raven says.

Though I hate the idea, I know that she is right.

I nod at her, and ask: "So what do we do?"

"Well if they are not back by sunrise, which they probably will be, we go looking for them. Agreed?"

Both Jasper and I look at the Brunette, and reluctantly say: "Agreed." 

**Hi there! Again thanks for all of this support! Originally, I intended to get a Clarke POV in this chapter as well, but as I kept writing, I didn't have the space. So that will definitely be in the next chapter, which should be up in a few days.**

**What do you guys think happened to Clarke? Leave me your answers in a review, which btw I would love to have more of. All will be revealed next chapter, so stay tuned… **


	4. High Hopes

Clarke

The warm ball of light filtered through my eyelids, awakening me from my deep-exhaustion driven sleep. I crane my neck up towards the bright light, and suddenly I am reminded of my surroundings. I am still in the depth of the forest. A circle of tall green trees surround me- and from what I can remember from our earth skills lessons on the Ark, they are Oak trees. The trees are enclosed by a mass of tall bright green grass, which provides some sort of concealment and protection from the outside world.

Next to me, I hear Bellamy stir in his sleep- his body rolling over to face mine. After he had pulled the dagger out of me, and helped me through whatever caused me to spasm uncontrollably, we spent a few hours talking- mostly arguing- about what we should do next. Of course, Bellamy being Bellamy, he insisted we should go back to camp straight away. For our own protection from the Grounders, and to ease the minds of the camp. They surely must have noticed that we were gone by now- and god knows what stupid things they were planning on doing to find us.

But after I rightly reminded him that I didn't have the strength to walk yet- as much as I desperately wanted to- he had insisted of carrying me back.

"Don't be ridiculous Bellamy, you can't carry me through miles of unknown forest- it's not safe. And I sure as hell won't let you treat me like some sort of "damsel in distress". I retorted impatiently to him.

Bellamy had scoffed to this remark, muttering with a smirk: "I bet you'd love that, wouldn't you."

"I'm serious Bellamy," I replied coldly. "It's not safe and you know it, its pitch black out here."

His expression had suddenly grown more serious at that remark.

"Then what do you suggest we do then Princess?"

I cringed at his use of my nickname.

"We should just stay here until the morning. We are perfectly sheltered, the grass will cover us so nobody will see us." I said, trying to add a softer tone to my voice.

"Okay," he agreed reluctantly.

Soon after that, we had both drifted off into sleep, letting the silence of our surroundings consume us.

During the night I had woken up with a jolt. The pain in my ribs was overwhelming- I didn't have any of Monty's moonshine to help dull the pain. And the fact that I was shivering because of the cold ground didn't help very much.

Bellamy had noticed my sudden awakening, as he silently wrapped his jacket around my shoulders and pulled me into his chest- enclosing me in his arms. At first I had felt slightly awkward at his sudden movement, but then I realised he was just to keep me warm. A simple survival technique, that was all that it had meant. Nothing more and nothing less.

But laying there in his arms, I had felt much safer than I had felt in a while. I didn't know why, and I didn't understand it at all, so I just embraced it. As much as I would like to, I can't pretend that I didn't like it. The safety of his arms was a huge comfort to me. Bellamy Blake's arms. Of all the feeling.

In desperate need to stretch my stiff legs, I use the tree to help me pull myself to my feet. As soon as I am stood on my own two feet, the pain that surges through me reminds me why I told Bellamy I wouldn't be able to walk through the forest last night. I stifle a cry of pain into a groan, so that I do not wake up a sleeping Bellamy. He would give me hell if he saw me standing up like this, being the overly- protective guy that he is.

Leaning back against one of the trees a thought suddenly occurs to me- why the hell is Bellamy Blake so protective over me? I've seen that aspect of him somewhat grow in the past few weeks. At first he refused to let me go out on patrols with him- giving no particular reason why. But after many long and heated arguments I managed to persuade him to let me go. I have only ever seen him like this with Octavia before. He is so possessive and protective over his sister.

I scoff back a laugh as I realise why he has been protecting me- I am the camp's only healer, our only Doctor. If I die, many of our people could easily die because of it. And I am his co-leader- he needs the different leadership qualities that we both have differently, to effectively lead the 100.

All of a sudden a wave of nausea and a coughing fit rack my body at the same time. I hold my hand over my mouth, to try and quiet the coughing. But with each new cough, a deep pain burns through my chest.

As I take my hand away from my mouth, my eye widen when they land on what's on my hand. Blood. I've been coughing up blood.

"Clarke?"

Jasper POV

By the time I wake up and leave my tent in the morning, and search party have already been formed to find Bellamy and Clarke. That pretty much confirms that they haven't come back then.

I sigh as I walk over to the group that has assembled to find our miss leaders.

It is scary how much we all really need them. Ever since they have been busy chaos has descended upon the camp. There have been so many new problems and developments in the past 24 hours, and we've had nobody to really deal with them. Some more of the hunters have said they spotted more suspicious grounder activity, which is making the level of fear within the camp significantly grow. And with no wise words from Bellamy or Clarke to calm them all down, moral is lowering. Raven did step up and attempt to calm things down, but not subsequently enough.

But the fact that a couple of guys got into a fight over god know what, didn't help the situation either. One of them had a couple of serious cuts and gashes, and without Clarke's expertise to heal them we are all stuck. Octavia offered to step up and attempt at treating them- because she has spent to most time in the medical bay watching Clarke- but she wasn't exactly sure how.

It has only just dawned on me how much we all really need Clarke and Bellamy here. They both have different leadership qualities we need: Clarke with her wise words and healing skills, and Bellamy with his good speeches and ability to enforce the law. Without them we are lost- which makes finding even more important than ever.

I reach the search party that consists of Raven, Octavia, Finn, Miller and Monroe. We decided last night that we needed someone to stay here and keep an eye on things while we were gone, so Monty stepped up and offered to do it.

"Look who finally managed to drag themself out of bed!" Raven mused as I stood next to them.

"Come on we don't have time for this!" Octavia chirped, grabbing my arm and pulling me out of the gate. "Let's go!"

I can hear the desperation that is evident in her voice. She must be going mad worrying for her brother- something no of us could ever imagine, given that none of us has a sibling. I have often found it difficult to understand their relationship, but I envy the fact that they will always have each other. No matter what.

That is something I couldn't say I have for myself.

As we all begin to walk into the depths of the woods, with no idea what we are about to be getting ourselves into, I gently place my hand on Octavia's shoulder.

"We will find them O, I know we will," I whisper.

She smiles weakly at me, saying: "I hope you're right."

Clarke

"Clarke?"

I spin around to face a confused looking Bellamy- so quickly that I nearly loose me balance.

He must notice my struggle to stay stood up, as he places his hand on my shoulder to steady me.

Bellamy still looks really groggy from sleep- his eyes drooping and his curly dark hair messily sprawled around his head. He struggles to stifle a yawn, which I actually find rather amusing.

"Clarke, what's wrong? I heard you coughing and…"

He stops mid-sentence as his eyes travel down to my hands. His eyes widen in horror at the sight of my blood soaked hands, his sleepy posture suddenly disintegrating as tension builds up in his shoulders.

"What the hell!" he says pointing at my hands. "Did you just…"

"Cough up blood?" I interrupt. "Yeah I guess I did."

Instead of replying, Bellamy just stands there staring at my hands, as if her were in some kind of trance. We both stand there in a moment of silence, both of us unable to think of any words to say.

The silence gives me a chance to think: if I am coughing up blood, it must mean I have punctured my lungs- which has caused some kind of internal bleeding. I have never seen my mother treat anyone for that kind of internal bleeding before- meaning I have no idea what to do. The coughing up blood is an indication that it is getting worse, meaning that in a matter of time… I will probably be dead. I cannot treat myself for a condition I don't know how to cure…

Suddenly it hits me: I know of one person down here on earth who might be able to help. Lincoln. The grounder. He seems to know a lot about the natural herbs and medicines on the earth, maybe he has something that can slow down the internal bleeding.

The question is: will he help me? After the way we tortured him after he captured Octavia, he has every right to not want to help us.

All that I can pray for, is that we might catch him when he's in a good mood.

Bellamy's tall body cowering over me is the thing that pulls me back to reality- when I realise I am on the floor, lying against a tree.

His eyes are questioning and concerned as he looks me in the eye. I know that I can't tell him the full danger of the injuries I suspect that I have- he would go ballistic. But I need to persuade him to take me to Lincoln. Good luck with that one Clarke, I think to myself.

"Clarke, what's wrong? What do you want me to do?" he says, his voice demanding.

I clear my throat.

"Bellamy… I need you to take me to Lincoln."

**Sorry this chapter is later that I promised (I think). But on the bright-side it's much longer. *Yay*. As I'm going on holiday for a week tomorrow, I don't know when my next chapter will be up.**

**But fear not- I am taking my laptop with me- meaning I will work on the next chapter when I get some spare time. Let's just hope there is Wi-fi where I'm staying.**

**Leave me a review guys- I really want to hear some feedback about your thoughts on the story so far. Plus I want to know whether my writing is any good in the first place, and whether you actually like the story. (And if I should continue with this story)**

***Reposting to correct a few errors I had in the chapter I had posted before (Forgot to delete a note for myself at the end)***


	5. Better Man

Bellamy

"You have got to be fucking joking."

I look up into Clarke's tired and exhausted eyes, and realise from her expression that she really isn't joking.

"No Bellamy, I am not." she replies, licking her lips.

I can feel the anger rising up within me- my shoulders becoming remarkably tenser then they already are.

I have no idea what to even say to Clarke, I don't even know what is running through that mind of hers. She must be delusional from the grounder attack. No way is she in her right mind.

I stand up and walk away from Clarke, pacing back and forth as a way to try and relieve some of the anger within me. I know that if I don't then I will direct my anger onto Clarke. Looking at the state Clarke is in right now, I know it wouldn't be right to take it out on her.

Finally turning around to face an exasperated Clarke, I say as calmly as possible: "And why would I do that?"

"Because he is the only who will know how to help me," Clarke mutters, only just loud enough that I can hear.

I draw my eyebrows in with confusion at that remark. What on earth could be so wrong with her that she needs the Grounders help?

"Clarke, what's the matter?" I demand. "What could be so wrong with you that you need the help of the Grounder? The man who took Octavia, the man who stabbed Finn!"

As soon as I say that, Clarke immediately directs her gaze away from mine.

"I don't know, and that's the point!" she interjects. She sighs as she pulls herself into a standing position, obviously in pain as she clutches at her ribcage. I suddenly have the urge to rush forward and help her, but then I resist it when I see the expression on her face. Determination.

Brave princess, always so strong in the face of anything. And I know from that look alone that she doesn't need my strength to stay stood up. Because her own strength is radiating so generously off of her petite body.

"I don't know, and Lincoln is the only other healer on this earth who I think has the ability to find out." she finishes.

I suddenly catch a glimpse of some kind of emotion cross her face: but I can't quite figure out what it is. It's almost as if she doesn't believe her own words…

I shake my head, dismissing the thought entirely.

"But Clarke," I say, softening the tone of my voice as I walk towards her. "I don't trust him, not after everything he has done to us."

She licks her lips and looks up at me smiling weakly.

"I know you don't Bellamy, but he has done some good remember."

"Pffft," I scoff, "Like what Princess?"

"He saved Octavia's life- he saved her from the arrow that hit and killed Roma!" she reminded me.

"It was his fault we she was in that situation in the first place, Clarke I don't trust…"

My rant about the Grounder is interrupted, when Clarke suddenly lurches forward and starts to cough vigorously. With each new cough that racks her body, blood is sprayed out from her lungs.

I step for forward to Clarke. I try and think of a way to comfort her, so I put my hand on her shoulder to steady her. So that she knows that I'm here if she needs me. But Clarke being Clarke, she quickly bats my hand away

"I'm fine Bellamy, I'm fine," she urges.

It's at that moment I realise that I don't really have a choice in the matter. As much as I hate the idea of going to the grounder for help, there are no other options. I can't just stand here whilst Clarke coughs her guts up.

In one swift movement I scoop Clarke up into my arms, ignoring her protests.

"Bellamy, no, what are you doing?" she questions, thrashing in my arms.

"I am taking you to the Grounder, what the princess wants the princess gets," I reply with a hint of sarcasm in my voice, to try and lighten.

I walk along in silence, with her in my arms for a few minutes.

Breaking the silence, Clarke says as she squirms uncomfortably in my arms: "Thank you Bellamy, I know you didn't want to do this."

I smirk.

"No problem Princess." 

Octavia

It seems like we have been walking for hours and hours- mindlessly walking through the depths of the unknown. The warmth of the midday sun is seeping through my clothes, which is making me sweat like mad. But none of that matters to me- all that matters is finding Bellamy and Clarke.

Although we have been walking for hours on end, there has still been no sign of either of them. No tracks in the usual hunting and walking spots, nothing to indicate where or how they are.

I am become even more anxious with every new step and every passing second. They have been gone for over 24 hours now, and they defiantly would have been back by now. They would never been gone for this long unless… unless something had happened. And I can't even fathom that being an option

I fear for their lives- I fear that they may be hurt or suffering. And I can't lose either of them. I can't lose Bellamy- my brother, my protector- who is the only family I have left. He has risked so much for me in the past, and although we don't always agree on everything, I need him. I love him and need him. My brother.

I can't lose Clarke either. A few weeks ago I didn't even like Clarke- my first impression of her wasn't exactly a good one. She was annoying and self-righteous and extremely irritating. But recently she has grown on me- her strength so very outstanding. After seeing the way that she is when she treats her patients, with so much care and understanding and charisma. In a way we have become much closer, friends even. And I don't want to lose that.

"A penny for your thoughts."

I turn around to see an uncomfortable looking Miller walking behind me. I peer behind him to see the rest of the group walking towards us from the distance. I hadn't realised how far ahead I had walked from them- to busy enthralled in my own thoughts.

"What?" I ask him, a blank expression on my face.

He looks at the ground rubbing his neck. "It's an old earth expression… never mind."

We both stand in silence for a few minutes, whilst we wait for the rest of the group to catch up. And in that silence I admire the natural beauty of the earth: the clusters of tall green trees, the patches of emerald coloured grass and the beautiful multi-coloured wildflowers. The whole scene is breath-taking.

Back on the ark we could only ever imagine the beauty of nature: the only real nature being from stories or the old ancient photo. We could only use the power of our minds to create a picture of the earth in our minds. But nothing compares to the real thing- to being able to breathe in clean and natural air, to being able to feel the cool wind against your skin. Nothing compares.

When the rest of the group are only a few feet away from us, Miller leans in to whisper something into my ear.

"Don't worry, we will find them soon enough Octavia."

I turn to face him and smile weakly, before Jasper's voice booms in my ears.

"So which way do we go from here?" he questions.

With no ideas of any kind of answers to suggest, I let Miller do the talking.

"I figure we should go east from here," he says pointing in the direction of east. "Nobody's ever really ventured that way before, so…"

"So that means we have no idea what is out there!" Monroe interjects.

"Yes, but it's a highly likely possibility that they are there," Raven points out. "If you think about it, we haven't seen any sign of them around here, so why wouldn't they be in an unknown territory."

With that they divulge into a full blown argument, and I turn my back to them, not wanted to be included in their squabbling.

But that gives me an opportunity to think of my own solution, to think of anyone who might know where they are. All of a sudden a name pops into my head: Lincoln. Lincoln might know where they are. I have no idea why I didn't think of him before.

He would have found out from the other Grounders if they had captured or seen them, and he seems to know a lot about the other tribes of people on this earth.

Bellamy would hate the idea of me going to him- but what he doesn't know is that I have sneaked away from camp many times to meet him. Bellamy doesn't approve of our relationship, and hell he probably never will. But Clarke was the one who would always cover for me with him, she would always make up some excuse or keep Bellamy occupied.

With a grit of determination, I turn around and attempt to break through their argument.

"Stop!" I shout, the sudden sound of my voice drawing everyone's attention.

I rub the back of my neck, and clear my throat before continuing.

"Go East. It is the most logical route to make, and we've got nothing to lose by going that way. Do you see either of them around here?" I say pointing around the forest.

"So you guys go east, and find my brother and Clarke."

With that I am met with a number of confused looks.

"Where the hell are you going then?" Finn pipes up.

"I'm going to see Lincoln, to ask him if he's heard anything about either of them. Got it?"

They all nod in reply, and I turn around and walk off without another.

"Good luck," somebody calls as I run away. But I don't turn around to see who it is, instead I let the adrenaline coursing through my veins carry my feet away.

Finn

We all stand there watching Octavia run into the forest, the look of determination in her face making it unable for any of us to protest against her wishes.

"Come on let's go, no time to lose." Miller commands, gesturing with his hand.

The walk east is a mostly silent one, only the odd complaint being heard through the silence of the forest. But that silence is broken when Raven, who had wandered ahead with one of the torches, let out a scream.

I quickly run to her side to see what she was screaming at, and as soon as I see it my hand clasps over my mouth in shock.

Shackled to a tree, lying on the ground, in a pool of dark blood, is the Grounder Princess.

Anya.

**Thank you all so much for the support! I can't believe the amount of interest I have gotten in only a few chapters! It's insane, and much appreciated. Every time I get a notification about a new follower or a review, I puts a smile on my face. Thanks so much!**

**Sorry for the delay, I would have had it up sooner but writers block didn't allow this, and plus I'm on holiday.**

**So Bellamy agreed to take Clarke to Lincoln. But does that mean its smooth sailing for them from now on? And what do you think happened to Anya. Who did that to her? Well I guess you'll have to wait until the nest chapter to find out, won't you….**

**( Please review, follow, favourite etc)**


	6. Pain is Beauty

**Sorry I haven't updated for over a week, I've just found it hard writing this chapter. I had trouble writing the parts between Bellamy and Lincoln, as I wanted to write it as realistic as I could. **

**This chapter is super long- as soon as I got into the swing of it I kinda found it hard to stop… But enjoy!**

Clarke

The warmth of the mid-day sun is slowly beginning to fade, leaving a cold chill in the air. Being that summer is gradually now drawing to an end, the warm summer days are now being replaced with coldness. Ever since we've been down on the ground I've began to appreciate the natural warmth of the sun on my skin- mainly because it was a luxury that none of us had ever experienced on the ark. But now with summer slowly drawing to an end, the coldness that is now seeping through my veins mirrors the sadness I feel with the loss of the warm summer days.

We've been walking for hour's now- well Bellamy is the one who is doing all the walking. Although he has had very few breaks- much against my constant protesting- he doesn't seem to be tiring at all. For me it's just flashes of colours in-between my eyes fluttering open and closed as he hurries through the woods, barely breaking a sweat.

His strength has always been something that has astonished me. Whenever anything has happened and whatever obstacles that have been thrown our way, his strength has never faltered. Neither his physical nor his mental strength.

He has simply always been Bellamy Blake- the warrior, the protector, the brother, the leader.

But recently I have seen another side to him. Underneath all of that there is a side to him that is rarely seen by other people. The way that he hides his vulnerability- of which I first caught glimpse of that time in the woods, after Dax tried to kill him. The way he cares deeply for those who are very close to him, mainly Octavia. The way that he is intent on never showing any signs of weakness in front of anybody…

A deep voice suddenly bellows in my ear drum, pulling me away from my thoughts about Bellamy Blake.

"How are you doing Princess?" Bellamy asks as my body sways back and forth in his arms, as his feet carry us further into the forest.

I'm about to say that I'm fine, but the truth is I'm not. My whole body is shaking in his arms, I don't know whether that is from the pain in my ribs or from the cold. All I know is I can't exactly lie to Bellamy, he must be able to sense that I am in pain as he's carrying me- whether it's the shaking or the shallow breathing.

"I'm… okay," I cough.

He sighs as he steers us around a fallen tree branch. "No you're not okay Clarke, I know that."

"Then why did you ask?" I groan.

I can feel his shoulders shrug. "Well the conversation isn't exactly very engaging," he jokes. "And I need to keep you talking."

I smile as I lean my head in against his chest, fighting against the urge to just close my eyes, and drift away from all of the pain and responsibility weighing down on me.

The whole time that we have been away from the camp, I haven't been able to stop thinking about them. Are they okay? Has anyone been injured? Have they discovered that we are gone? All of these questions are circling around my head like a stampede- constant and pressing.

"It will all be okay you know."

I look up to see that Bellamy has stopped walking, and is looking down at me with a strange emotion evident in his eyes, one that I can't figure out. His brown eyes stand out vibrantly against the greenery of the forest. Those brown eyes…

"What?" I ask in confusion, trying to take my mind away from thoughts about Bellamy's eyes.

What the hell is wrong with me? I could be dying, and all I can think about is how nice Bellamy's eyes are. I must be going mad.

"I know that you are worrying about everybody back at camp," he answers. "But you don't need to be worried, they can look after themselves for more than a day."

His sudden ability to read my mind puzzles me.

"How did you know what I was thinking?"

He smiles. "Because I know you well enough by now, to know that you think of everybody else before yourself."

For a moment we just stare at each other, neither of us saying a word. After what seems like forever, Bellamy awkwardly clears his throat, and set's his eyes on whatever is in front of us.

I turn my head to look at what his eyes are trailed on. Or rather where they are trailed on. Lincoln's cave.

"Are you ready?" he says.

I nod. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Bellamy

After carrying Clarke for hours through and endless maze of trees and plants, I don't feel any relief as I carry her into the Grounder's cave. I'm frightened for her, as I've noticed her weakening in the past few hours. She struggles to keep her eyes open for any length of time, and the painful groans she lets out don't make things better.

I can only hope that the Grounder will agree to help her. After everything his people have done to ours, he owes us this.

All I know is that if he doesn't agree to help us, I don't know what my anger will make me do…

"Hey Bellamy?" Clarke croaks in my arms.

"What is it?"

"I'm grateful that you carried me all this way, but can you stop clenching your hands on my legs, because it kind of hurts." she points out.

I look down and realise that in all my angry thoughts about how I will hurt the Grounder if he refuses to help, I've been clenching my hands tightly against her legs.

I loosen my grip, and mutter some sort of apology as I walk into the dark tunnel that leads to the Grounder's cave. I'm about to reach back into my backpack and grab a flashlight, when I find that Clarke already has, as she hands one to me.

Always one step ahead.

"Thanks," I whisper gratefully.

I can feel her head nod slowly against my chest, as we descend further into the darkness of the cave. After a few minutes, I eventually see a glowering light at the end of the tunnel, confirming that the Grounder in fact must be here.

I let out a sigh of relief at this, given that he is the only person who can help Clarke, and is my last chance at saving my co-leader.

As I approach the end of the tunnel, I can hear the quickening footsteps of the Grounder, echoing through the silence of the cave. As I slowly turn the same corner I once turned to save Octavia's life, I am met with the sharpness of a blade prodded against my throat.

I am now face to face with the Grounder- Lincoln- the man that my sister is so certain that she loves. The man who she has tried to convince me is a good person. Although he treats her well and cares for her, I still do not completely trust him. He has sworn that his loyalty no longer lies with the Grounders and Anya's tribe. But I don't think I will ever completely trust him. For it's not in my nature to just forgive and forget.

"What are you doing here?" he demands as his eyes survey my face, as though he's completely oblivious to the fact that I have a nearly unconscious person lying in my arms.

A groan escapes the lips of a barely conscious Clarke- who the Grounder has by now noticed and is staring at with wide and curious eyes.

"I need your help," I admit as I awkwardly scuff the back of my shoe on a stone.

He turns his back and walks over to a stack of papers, as if he had not even heard what I said.

"And what makes you think that I'll help you," Lincoln says with his back still turned to us.

"Because you are the only one who can help her, the only one on this earth who might be able to find out what the hell is wrong with her!" I shout, unable to control the burst of anger which is now coursing through my veins.

"What makes you think you have the right to come in here and demand my help," he says as he turns and points his finger at me in anger. "Why should I help you?"

"For Octavia!"

At the mention of my sister's name, the Grounders shoulders tense up, and some unidentifiable emotion clouds his face.

"Clarke is our camp's only healer," I continue. "If Clarke dies, then you are endangering not only the entirety of our people's lives, but also Octavia."

The flash of anger that had contorted his face, slowly begins to disappear. I vaguely hear him mutter something along the lines of "Sky people", as he walks over to a pile of blankets in the corner, and lays them out on the ground of the cave.

"Set her down here," he orders.

I walk over and gently lay down Clarke's body on the animal furs, and look to survey her condition. Her skin has paled remarkably since I last looked at her- becoming almost transparent against her halo of golden hair. Her eyebrows are deeply furrowed as she turns her head from side to side, pain evident in her face.

Lincoln kneels down on the other side of Clarke, and looks over her face- obviously noticing the same look of pain and anguish that I can see in her face.

"What the hell happened?" he asks as he looks up at me.

I quickly fill him in on everything that has happened- the attack, Clarke getting stabbed, pulling the knife out, and her coughing up blood. His expression does not change throughout the whole thing- a calm and serious look making him look wiser beyond his years.

I almost lunge forwards at him as he lifts Clarke's shirt up- but then I realise he is doing so to examine her stab wound. I have no idea where this strange feeling of not wanting anyone else to even touch Clarke has come from. But it remains with me as he continues to examine her, as he runs his fingers around the wound to check for any bleeding.

After what seems like forever- of watching him poke and prod Clarke in every way possible- he stands up with an odd look on his face. I watch as he goes and washes his hands, with what I can only assume to be moonshine, in the corner.

Unable to contain my curiosity any longer, I rush up to him and demand to know what's going on.

"So, do you know what's wrong with her?" I urge.

He gives me some sort of look that's a mix of pity and amusement.

"I believe the blade must have punctured one of her lungs, which would explain the coughing up blood and laboured breathing."

"Which means?" I demand.

"Which means that she has a fair amount of internal bleeding in her chest," Lincoln continues.

I am suddenly bewildered at his prognosis- I'd never imagined in a million years that her injuries were that bad. I had thought after taking the knife out that she would be fine… but how wrong was I.

"So, what next?" I ask yawning, suddenly aware of how tired I feel from all of the walking.

"I have some herbs with antibiotic properties which I can use to slow the bleeding, but I need to collect more of those herbs and other ones if I am going to stop the bleeding altogether."

Lincoln walks over and pulls out a small wooden box, which I can see is full of different containers of medicinal plants. He pulls some leaves out of one of the containers, and hands them to me along with a grinding bowl.

He instructs me to grind the leaves and some water into a paste, and I do so without hesitation.

Whilst I do so, I watch Clarke toss and turn in pain- her body now visibly sweating from the ordeal. It's rather ironic for Clarke to be the one who is writhing in pain, and we are the ones trying to save her life, when it's usually the other way round. I had never known of the amount of physical and mental strain Clarke had been in when somebody else's life was in her hands until now.

I suddenly feel and overwhelming amount of admiration and appreciation to her constant determination to keep everybody alive- no matter what the cost. Because I now know that it is something I must do myself.

After I finish grinding the herbs up, the Grounder goes and uses them on Clarke, in an expertly demeanour.

As he stands up and walks towards me, wiping his hands on the back of his trousers, he says: "I must go and gather the rest of the herbs that Clarke needs, so stay here and watch over her."

He bends down to the ground and picks up what appears to be some sort of horn, and hands it to me.

"If her condition suddenly worsens, blow on this horn and I will return."

I nod, and without another word he turns and hurries out into the darkness of the cave. Leaving me alone with my thoughts and an injured Clarke.

Octavia

After what seems like hours of running through the depths of the forest, I finally arrive at the entrance to Lincoln's cave. The entire journey here I was driven by sheer determination- determination to find my brother and Clarke, but also to see Lincoln.

As the summer is now drawing to an end, the workload at the camp has accelerated dramatically. We've been gathering food to store ready for winter early this year, which has taken up a lot of time. Also the fact that we've all been working hard to finish the cabins- that have been a work-in-progress for nearly half a year now- ready for the winter months.

With all of this going on, I've barely had a chance to get a way to see him. And given that Bellamy isn't his biggest fan, it wouldn't have been wise for him to visit me at the camp.

I take out my flashlight, and take off at a jog into the cave.

"Lincoln, it's me," I shout as I run through the tunnel.

As I reach the area to his living area, I slow down trying to catch my breath.

"Hey Lincoln, listen have you seen…"

I stop mid-sentence as I fix my eyes on the two people in the corner- the very two people who I have been desperate to find. But when I look closer, what I see disturbs me- I see a pale and sweaty Clarke sprawled on some blankets, with a concerned looking Bellamy hovering over her.

"Bellamy?"


	7. How to save a life

**Okay, I'm sorry if some parts of this chapter is not "Medically correct", but hey, Science has never been one of my strongest subjects. I'm going back to school in a couple of days *sarcastic yay* so the updating might not be as regular as it is (if it even is). But anyways I shall try my best to update as much as I can.**

**Also I know some of you were a bit taken aback at seeing Lincoln as a healer, so I tried my best to explain my interpretation on that, and the background to it. Enjoy!**

Chapter 7

Octavia

"Bellamy?"

As soon as I say his name, my brother looks up at me from Clarke- and I can instantly tell from the look on his face, that whatever is going on is not good. The expression on his face is a mixture of anger, hopelessness and worry. His dark hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat, and the way that his shoulders are slumped in defeat show how physically exhausted he is.

He stands up and before he has a chance to say a word, I run forward and throw my arms.

"Bell, what happened? Are you alright? What happened to Clarke?" I say in his ear, suddenly unable to stop the questions from spilling out of my mouth.

"I'm fine O," he says with so much pain in his voice. He pulls back from our embrace, and walks back over to Clarke and kneels by her side.

I follow him and do the same, as I kneel on the opposite side of her, facing my distraught brother. Being closer to Clarke, I can see that she looks worse than I once thought- with her skin a paler colour than I imagined ever existed and various cuts and bruises all over her face. I examine Bellamy's face in search for injuries, but he seems to be alright. I sigh with relief however I can tell that he doesn't feel the same sense of relief that I do.

"What happened?" I ask him gently, careful to use the right tone, as I know saying it the wrong way will send Bellamy on a mad tangent.

He looks up from Clarke with his eyebrows furrowed, and lets out a deep sigh.

"We were attacked by Grounders whilst on patrol," Bellamy confesses. "There were too many of them, and one of them got away and stabbed Clarke."

I gasp, and Bellamy continues with the story, as if ignoring the incredibly shocked expression on my face. "After we killed all of the Grounders, I managed to get the knife out of Clarke. And I stitched up her wound, with her instruction."

"But the next morning she started to cough up blood."

"Blood?" I exclaim questioningly.

"Yes, blood." He nods in an irritated manor. "She was rapidly getting worse, and begged me to bring her to the Grounder."

"I didn't know what else to do, so I brought her here." He looks down from my gaze ashamedly, before he mutters. "I thought I was going to lose her O."

The look of fear and guilt on Bellamy's face, makes me suddenly aware of how much Clarke means to him. Although I've been watching them get much closer recently, I never knew how much until now.

They don't argue as much as they used to anymore- the only arguments they have being mostly friendly banter. They've been spending so much more time together also- being either routine patrols or simply eating dinner together, sitting away from the group as they discuss day-to-say stuff. And I am glad of this- for I know that Clarke brings out a much better side to my brother.

She's like the calm to his storm- her compassion making her able to stop him from making rash decisions in a situation, to calm him down during those times when his anger and his pride is too much for him to overcome. Together, they are incredible leaders.

I understand why he fears losing her so much. Both Bellamy and I have lost the people we care about through our lives- first being our mother, and then each other for a little while.

"Look Bel," I say as I reach over Clarke, and gently put my hand on his shoulder. "You are not going Clarke. We all know how strong she is, and she will pull through this."

He smiles weakly: "Thank you O."

"What are sister's for." I reply, chuckling lightly.

After Bellamy finishes filling in the details of what happened and of Clarke's condition, we settle into a comfortable silence for a few minutes.

I sit there and watch, as Bellamy gently daps a cloth to Clarke's forehead. I've never seen him be this attentive to anyone for ages. The last being when our mother got the flu when I was 8- Bellamy stayed up night and day, catering to her every need. And within a few days she was miraculously better.

Looking at Clarke's ashen skin tone and laboured breathing, I think she might need a miracle to help her.

As I silently mull over my thoughts in my head, there is one detail that doesn't make sense to me.

"Hey Bell," I say.

"Mmmhm," he says as he momentarily looks away from Clarke.

"Why do you think that the Grounders just mercilessly attacked you, I mean we haven't had any trouble or attacks from them more months."

"I honestly don't know O," he begins impatiently. "We did nothing to provoke them. We were just patrolling our usual area, although we went a little further and accidentally got lost…"

"Wait, you went into another part of the forest?" I interrupt.

"Yeah, so?" my brother asks me, wearing a puzzled expression on his face.

I get up and walk across the room to Lincoln's shelves, searching through mounds of stuff until I find his journal.

"Lincoln said that there were other tribes of Grounder's all over, one of them recently moving quite close to here." I say, flipping through the pages of the journal until I get to the page I'm looking for.

"Here," I say, pushing the journal in front of his face. "Did they look like this?"

Bellamy examines the picture in front of him, and nods slowly as he pushes it away.

"Dammit," he shouts, slamming his fist into the ground, anger suddenly lighting up his face. "I should have been more careful, I should have watched where we were going."

"No Bellamy, it's not your fault" I insist, rushing to his side to crouch in front of him. "You weren't to know, it was an accident."

He just shakes his head repeatedly, eye wide with horror. "It's all my fault."

"Octavia?" a familiar voice calls.

I turn to see Lincoln standing in the entrance, a bag of herb at hand and a look of confusion written all over his face.

Bellamy

I stand hovering over Clarke, as I watch the Grounder administrating the medicine to her. I can't help but feel the need to knock him away, when he pushes Clarke's shirt up her torso to get to the wound. I can't understand the weird emotion that wells up within me, as he touches the skin around her wound. I shake it off and silently continue to watch the Grounder work.

I momentarily shift my gaze over to Octavia, who sits a few feet away, watching the Grounder intently with wonder in her eyes. I watch as he catches her gaze and returns it with a smile, before he turns his attention back onto the Princess.

I admit that I'm not at all a fan of my sister's relationship with the Grounder- I honestly think she can do so much better than him. I don't understand the feeling of anger that bubbles up within me, whenever I catch them looking at each other "that way". I know that if Clarke and I were not here, then they would definitely would be doing more than just "gazing" at each other.

But I accept their relationship- whatever it may be- even though I don't like it at all.

Finally, after what seems like hours, he stands up and steps away from Clarke, dumping a blood soaked rag in a bowl of water. And he just continues cleaning up all the various bottles of medicinal herbs that he's been using- as if we weren't even here.

I finally find the silence unbearable to take anymore, as I storm up to the Grounder and confront him.

"So, how is she? Will she be okay?" I demand in a harsh tone, harsh enough that Octavia shoots me a warning glance from the other side of the cave.

He looks up at me from what he's doing, and sets the bottles down.

"She's better, but not entirely out of the woods yet." He says answers finally.

"Not out of the woods yet!" I scoff in a mimicking tone, as I follow him back to where Octavia is sitting next to Clarke. "What the hell does that mean?!"

"It means," Lincoln affirms grimly, "That we will have to wait and monitor her condition of the next few hours."

"But you think she'll be okay?" Octavia adds, breaking her silence.

The Grounder sighs and rubs his darkly cast eyes, a clear sign that he's exhausted. Well aren't we all.

"Yes, I think she'll be okay. I put a poultice on her wound and re-stitched it back up again, so it should heal nicely. The herbs I gave her as I tea have antibiotic properties, which should help mend the punctured lung…"

"How do you know all of this?" Octavia interrupts curiously. "I mean, I never knew that you were a healer…"

"I am not a healer." Lincoln adds somewhat bitterly. "But in our tribe we are all passed down some sort of medical knowledge from our parents, it's just the way it is. We share our knowledge with each other, not confine it to one kind of person."

Octavia nods with acknowledgement at this.

"So how long do we have to wait?" I break in impatiently.

"As long as it takes." Lincoln says, before turning his attention back to Octavia, who all of a sudden is interested in a deep conversation about the ways of "The grounders."

With no interest in talking, or even listening to their conversation, I sink back on a fur and lean against the cave wall, my thoughts taking over.

From what I can see, Clarke looks a bit better. A bit of colour has returned to her cheeks, and her breathing is slowly returning to normal. That's good- I guess.

I can't help but feel angry at myself for all of this. If only I had been more careful- more careful at where we were going, more careful at keeping a look out for trouble. My carelessness and stupidity nearly cost Clarke her life- heck it still could.

I don't think I could bare to lose her- as much as I hate to admit it I have become much closer with the Princess much recently. I've realised that all of the things I hated about her when we first met, are the things that make her such a good leader, and a good person. I feel as though she understands me better than any other person on this earth (except Octavia)

And I can't lose that… I won't lose that.

After hours on hours of waiting, watching, hoping- I find myself dosing off to sleep. When I realise what I'm doing, I sit bolt upright, in an attempt to wake myself up. I sleepily look around the room and spot a sleeping Octavia, her head rested on the Grounders lap.

I then look at Clarke- who seemingly looks exactly the same as she did a few hours previous.

Just as I'm about to lean forward a brush a piece of hair out of Clarke's face, Octavia stirs- and the Grounder move's her head gently onto the blanket.

He comes to Clarke's side- once again "examining her condition" like he has every now and then for the past few hours.

I scowl at him. "Why hasn't anything changed yet?"

He ignores my questions, just like he has every time I've asked before now.

"Dammit Lincoln!" I say raising my voice, forgetting that Octavia was asleep. "Jesus Christ, tell me why the hell she isn't waking up!"

Before he has the chance to answer, a slurred voice speaks up from the other side of me.

Clarke.

"Bellamy?"


	8. Hear you me

Chapter 8

Clarke

Pain. The pain that had hold of my body is beginning to fade a little, and I can feel myself re-joining the world of consciousness.

My ears are suddenly bombarded with the sound of raised voices- someone arguing I presume. I try to open my eyelids to identify who the voices belong to, but they won't open. It's as if they are glued shut.

Through the haze of events that have happened over the past few days, I try and piece together everything that has gone on. The attack. My stabbing. Coughing up blood. Trying to persuade Bellamy to take me…

Lincoln! He brought me to Lincoln. Which means that Bellamy must be arguing with Lincoln- his disliking towards the Grounder and his uncontrollable temper obviously getting the better of him once again.

My suspicions are confirmed, when I hear Bellamy shout: "Jesus Christ, tell me why the hell she isn't waking up?"

I force my eyes open, to see a glowering Bellamy look as if he's about to punch Lincoln. The way that he's stood is full of anger- his posture tight and tense as he shoots glares at Lincoln. I try and tell him to stop, but I can't seem to get the words out- with a burning sensation filling my dry throat as soon as I open my mouth. Desperate for water to soothe my de-hydrated throat, I say the only thing I can, that might be able to stop him in his tracks.

"Bellamy?" I croak, trying to push myself up into a better position, when I feel searing sensation in my ribs.

All heads in the room turn in my direction: Bellamy and Lincoln looking down at me with such shock written all over their faces, and a sleepy- looking Octavia who suddenly shoots up from the floor with wide eyes.

"Clarke!" Bellamy exclaims as he scrambles to my side.

"The one and only." I say weakly, as I am met with three pairs of eyes that are staring at me as though I have just risen from the dead.

"Jesus Christ guys, quit the intense staring," I blurt out blatantly. "It's not like I've died."

"You nearly did." Lincoln says.

Those words hit my harder than I expected them to- the realising that I came so close to death haunting in itself. My eyes widen at that sudden thought: making me think of all the things that I may have never been able to do in my life, the people that I would have never been able to see again. My mother. Jasper. Octavia. Raven. Monty. Finn. The Hundred.

Bellamy.

Octavia must have caught onto my suddenly overwhelming feelings, as she makes a weak attempt at diffusing the tension in the room. Or should I say cave.

"Well she's not dead is she. So why don't we back off for a minute and give Clarke some space?" she says.

Both men obey the command, as they move backwards. Bellamy is reluctant to do so- but I look at him and mouth "Please"- which makes him move back, and sit on one of Lincoln's many animal furs, which seem to blanket the ground of the cave.

"How are you feeling?" Bellamy asks. Finally asking the million dollar question that must be on everybody's minds.

I lean back on the plush blankets which encircle me, momentarily taking a moment to myself to consider the question.

How am I feeling?

It's not a question that I ask myself very often, but then again I'm not in this situation often. I'm not used to being the patient, and I hate it. I'm the doctor, the one who looks after and tends to sick people. But I am never the weak and helpless patient. And nor do I ever intend to be again.

"I'm fine Bellamy, I'm doing fine." I urge as I turn to look him in the eyes, for the first time since I wake up. And what I find in them, is something quite hard to describe.

His eyes sparkle with sorrow and sadness, and other emotions, of which I find hard to decipher. For once I can see vulnerability in the features of our fearless leader. Which is something that I don't think I've seen in a long time, not since the time when Dax had tried to kill him. When I told him I needed him. That we all needed him.

He looks as exhausted as I feel: with dark shadows cast under his eyes, his dark hair plastered to his head with sweat. There is a mixture of blood and mud caked to parts of his face, along with various cuts and abrasions from the Grounder attack. _Bloody hell Bellamy_, I think to myself, _couldn't you have had a wash?_

I realise that I have been studying Bellamy's face for a bit too long, when Octavia lets out a not-so-subtle cough, to try and get my attention.

I decide to turn my attention on Lincoln, intent on finding the reason for me coughing up blood. Somewhat expertly, Lincoln describes what my condition was, and how he treated- a punctured lung, which he treated with antibiotic herbs. I'm somewhat impressed by the amount of medical knowledge the older man has- I mean when I asked Bellamy to bring me to him, it was kind of on a whim. Given that he's known a lot about various sicknesses in the past, and has a wide knowledge of what's on the ground.

I'm about to open my mouth to ask him about it, but Octavia gives me a look which suggests I shouldn't.

From the corner of my eye, I can feel Bellamy's eyes boring into the back of my head. Octavia catches wind of this, and gets to her feet, pulling Lincoln up with her.

"Umm, Lincoln and I are going for a walk," she says. "Give you guys a chance to talk, and catch up…"

Without another word, she slips out of the cave entrance, pulling a rather annoyed looking Lincoln along with her.

**Hey guys, I'm sorry it's been so long! I've recently started my A-Levels, amongst various other things, so my life has been uncontrollably busy recently. I'm going to try and start getting back into the swing of things, and update more regularly, beginning with this chapter.**

**So this is just a smaller chapter, for you guys, to lead up to the next couple of chapter, where some Bellarke shit is about to go down. **

**Keep the feedback coming guys- leave me a review, let me know if you like it, and if you have any ideas for where you want this story to go.**


	9. Bed of Roses

Chapter 9

Clarke

I silently watch as Octavia drag Lincoln, who is not-so-subtly hiding the angered look on his face.

I turn to look at Bellamy: whose gaze is glued to the wall in front of him, as though he was in a deep thought. His behaviour ever since I woke up has struck me as odd- I mean, ever since I've known him, I've never known him to have remained this quiet for so long. It's very unlike Bellamy, whose arrogance never fails to appear on a daily basis. Something's wrong. I can feel it.

"Bellamy," I say, an attempt to break the awkward silence that looms over us, and to get his attention. His eyes remain set on the wall, as though he didn't even hear me at all.

I sigh heavily, before blurting out the thought that's been on my mind ever since I woke up. A thought that has been heavily weighing down on my soul: a reminder of the gratitude I feel towards Bellamy.

"I never got to thank you."

His head whips around to my direction.

"Thank me for what?" he asks, a confused expression written on his face.

"I never got to thank you for saving my life, for bringing my here even though everything within you hated the idea. I know I've been an inconvenience to you, but…"

"Is that what you think you are to me, Clarke?" he interrupts, a hint of hurt in the tone of his deep voice.

"Yes. No. I don't know."

He gets up from where he was sat and makes his way to my side, kneeling down in front of me. He runs his hand through his dark curls- something that I've learnt Bellamy always does when he's feeling awkward or nervous.

"Listen to me Clarke," he says, gently placing his rough and calloused hand on my shoulder tentatively. "You could never be an inconvenience to me… understand?"

His sudden tentative action takes me aback a little, so all I can do is give him a small nod in reply.

Just as Bellamy's about to take his hand off my shoulder, I catch a glimpse of a large cut running down his palm. I take his rough hand in mine.

"What happened here?" I ask curiously, going into doctor mode and examining his injury.

I wait for him to answer my question, but instead I find his eyes fixed on our conjoined hands.

"Urghh," he chokes out. "I just cut it on a Grounder spear… it's nothing serious."

"Even so, you need to put some moonshine or something on it. The cut is quite deep, so there is a chance it could become infected."

Bellamy laughs- just a short burst of light-heartedness, but it manages to dissolve some of the tension in the cave. It's enough to make me smile from ear to ear.

"What are you smiling about Princess?" Bellamy raises his eyebrow at.

I realise that I'm still holding his hand- but I also realise that I don't really want to let go either. I trace my fingers along the red gash.

"I haven't heard you laugh in a while," I say. "It's nice."

He doesn't say anything: just stares down at our hands again, his eyes downcast.

My curiosity gets the better of me once more, I blurt out the question before even really thinking about.

"Bellamy what's wrong?"

His hand jerks out of my grasp at those words- as if they caused him pain.

He all of a sudden gets to his feet, and starts pacing backwards and forwards in front of me. His shoulders built up with tension.

"It's my fault… it's my fault." I vaguely hear him mutter in the distance, his face tight and drawn.

I don't understand.

"What's your fault?" I inquire tiredly, the question turning into a yawn instead of an actual sentence.

Bellamy rubs his hands against his face- obviously agitated.

"It's my fault! Don't you get it Clarke?"

His angry voice echoes loudly through the cave: anger radiating off of his tall stature.

I stare at him blankly for a moment, trying to figure out what he means. But then I do.

"Bellamy, the grounder attack wasn't your fault, so don't for a second…"

"It was, I should have been more careful," he pleads desperately. "And because of my carelessness you nearly died Clarke."

"And I don't think I could have ever dealt with the guilt of your death on my conscious… not on top of all those other lives."

I'm speechless for one of the first times in my life- my mouth incapable of producing sound.

I can feel Bellamy's walls coming down Shattering into small and oblivious pieces. His vulnerability peeking through the barrier that he always has up so high. His eyes are glistening with water- his face contorted with emotion and perspiration. Seeing him like this reminds of the incident with Dax: of how much younger the vulnerability made him look. I know that I am one of the few people to see him like this, and I probably will be one of that few.

I suddenly feel the urge to comfort him, to help him.

"Bellamy." I groan, trying to reach forward to him.

He gives me a disapproving look. "Clarke don't be an idiot, you'll rip your stitches, stop moving."

I smile at his remark.

"Well come here then," I gesture with my hand. "I can't speak to you from all the way over there."

When Bellamy is sitting to the side of me once more, I do something that will probably ruin my attempts to console him.

I take both of his hands in mine: gripping onto them as I sternly look him in the eye.

"Listen to me Bellamy. None of this is your fault, hell it's not even my fault. It's neither of our faults. It's life, life on this god-forsaken planet. Shit happens."

The corner of his mouth twitches upwards.

"The point is: we've been through hell, you and I. But we're both still here, we both still have each other. You're not going to get rid of me anytime soon- as long as I'm breathing I shall be here, with you, with our people."

Bellamy remains completely silent throughout my speech, but his eyes remain on mine, looking me right in the eye. Devouring every word I say.

"So don't even think that you are to blame for this, understand?" I ask finally.

Instead of answering me verbally, he does something that shocks us both. He pulls me into an embrace.

A tight embrace: his arms wrapped firmly around my shoulder, his head buried in the crook of my neck.

"Thank you Clarke." He whispers into my ear, three words that only the two of us would be able to hear, even if there was anyone else in the cave. Three little words that release Bellamy- that release him from the sins and burdens he so heavily carries on his shoulders.

We stay like that for what seems like hours: our arms wrapped around each other. I can feel the strong muscles of his back and shoulders, eve through his shirt. A warrior through and through he is.

When we do finally pull back, it is only a little. Our faces square off- only a few centimetres apart. I can feel his hot breath of my face, and I can't stop my eyes from flickering down to his lips.

I don't know why I've never noticed how handsome his is until now: I mean sure, I've always thought he was attractive. But being so close to him not, I can study his striking features. His jaw and cheekbones are perfectly set. The light dusting of freckles on his cheeks and nose makes him look much younger than he is. His dark eyebrows sit perfectly angles above his dark eyes.

Before I know it's even happening, we're kissing. I don't know which one of us started it- all I know is I like it. His rough lips move in sync against mine: a deep rhythm consuming us both. I wait for him to deepen the kiss, and he does. His tongue moving into my mouth, exploring it. He tasted like mint and moonshine. Something that I'd have to ask him about later on. We kiss for a while, before we both pull apart silently. Neither of us daring to say a word.

A wave of exhaustion washes over me: my tired eyes beginning to droop, and my mouth letting out a deep yawn.

"You should sleep Princess, you need to heal." He says gently, probably the most gentle that he has ever spoken to me. I feel compelled to nod, and I do so.

I lay back on the plush fur beneath me- just as I say Bellamy about to move away.

"Bellamy wait," I mutter. "Will you lay with me?"

He seems shocked by my admission- obviously thinking that my tired mind is playing tricks on him.

"Please." I emphasise.

"Sure thing Princess."

He crawls over, and lays at my side. I turn around to face him, reaching my hand out to brush a dark curl out of his face. He smiles, a genuine smile.

That smile is last thing I see, as I drift off into the realm of unconsciousness.

**And there you go! After seeing all of the notifications in my inbox, saying I had new followers, favourites etc, I felt motivated to write. So thank you guys.**

**To all of you who are awaiting answers about Anya and the new tribe of grounders, don't worry- all shall be revealed in the next chapter. I just wanted to have a Bellarke revelation before I got into all of that.**

**Until next time my friends. (Remember, reviews and feedback is much appreciated)**

**XOXO**


End file.
